A Flirtatious Beauty Alpha Provokes a Crazy Omega - Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Flushed

 

Yan Wei’s heart stirred slightly.

 

But her tone remained steady: “Then, how much do you like me?”

 

The warm breeze gently blew, lifting Jiang Mi’s hair. She tightened her arms around Yan Wei, as if wanting to pull her even deeper into her embrace.

 

“It’s just… this much,” she said, her voice carrying a kind of stubborn sincerity, every word clear and forceful: “It’s the kind of liking that makes my heart ache at the thought of letting go. The kind that makes my chest tight and sad when I imagine us being apart. The kind that makes me want to gather every best thing in the world and lay them before you.”

 

Jiang Mi paused, took a breath, as if pouring out all the emotions she had been holding in. “Jiejie, I really, really, really like you.”

 

Yan Wei was silent for a few seconds. The hand that had been hanging by her side moved slightly. At last, she raised her arm with an almost imperceptible weight and warmth, and gently placed it on Jiang Mi’s back.

 

In her embrace was Jiang Mi’s burning, unreserved emotion—so vivid, so intense.

 

She felt Jiang Mi’s passion, and the noise of the world around them.

 

And suddenly, she found it all so wonderfully beautiful.

 

…

 

In the private dining room at midday, the light was soft and quiet.

 

When ordering, Yan Wei only asked for a salad. Jiang Mi glanced at her and added a few more dishes: steamed fish, shrimp and scrambled eggs, and a seafood soup.

 

Once everything was served, Yan Wei barely touched her salad.

 

“These won’t make you gain weight,” Jiang Mi said, picking up a piece of fish with her chopsticks, carefully removing the tiny, almost invisible bones at the edge of the plate, and gently placing the tender white fish onto Yan Wei’s plate.

 

Yan Wei’s gaze lingered for a moment between her fingers and the fish.

 

Seeing that Yan Wei didn’t seem interested in the food, Jiang Mi put down her chopsticks and gently asked, “Jiejie, is there anything you particularly like to eat?”

 

“No,” came the crisp reply.

 

“Then… anything you don’t like?” Jiang Mi asked patiently.

 

Yan Wei’s eyes briefly swept over the yellow egg chunks in the shrimp dish, her tone indifferent: “A lot.”

 

“For example?” Jiang Mi coaxed.

 

This time, Yan Wei’s gaze slowly moved from the scrambled eggs to the steamed fish.

 

Jiang Mi felt a spark of realization. She probed carefully, “You don’t like fish?”

 

“Mm.”

 

Her voice carried no emotion.

 

“Since childhood?” Jiang Mi asked, then remembered the dishes she ordered. “What about shrimp?”

 

She was a little worried she’d accidentally picked everything Yan Wei disliked.

 

Yan Wei didn’t answer, only lowered her eyes.

 

She wasn’t unsure of the answer—she just didn’t want to continue this conversation.

 

There had always been fish at the table, but after once being painfully choked by a bone, she never touched it again.

 

In a daze, an image flashed in her mind: Mo Yun, carefully picking bones from the fish and placing the fillet into Mo Xi’s bowl.

 

Strange. This was the second time she thought of Mo Yun today.

 

A faint chill of self-mockery slid through her chest.

 

“It’s okay,” Yan Wei finally responded, referring only to the shrimp.

 

Jiang Mi looked at her and didn’t press further. She nodded seriously. “Got it. I’ll remember.”

 

She set down her chopsticks, but couldn’t resist asking again, “Really, there’s nothing at all that you like eating?” Her voice carried a barely noticeable insistence.

 

Yan Wei didn’t answer directly but asked in return, “What about you? What do you like to eat?”

 

Jiang Mi blinked and suddenly thought of a very cheesy line.

 

Without much thought, she blurted out, “I like you.”

 

As soon as the words left her mouth, she bit her lip shyly.

 

Yan Wei, as expected, showed no expression—just quietly looked at her.

 

Jiang Mi: “…”

 

What now? That was kind of embarrassing.

 

But what she didn’t see was this—Yan Wei’s fingers, resting casually on the edge of the table, had quietly moved to the cold glass of her lemon water, her fingertips slowly rubbing the smooth surface.

 

As if touching something soft.

 

Jiang Mi coughed lightly. “Actually, I’m not picky at all. But if I had to pick a favorite…” Her eyes softened. “It’s my mom’s noodles. Tomato and egg noodles, with a rich broth, and two golden fried eggs. The steam rising, filling the whole house with the smell… Every time, Jiang Hu would steal the eggs from my bowl…”

 

She paused, glancing at Yan Wei—and saw her expression had cooled slightly, as if she didn’t like hearing about Jiang Hu.

 

Jiang Mi hesitated. “Actually… Jiang Hu and I, neither of us are Old Jiang’s biological children.”

 

Only then did Yan Wei lift her head, her calm gaze falling on Jiang Mi’s face.

 

This, she had actually known for a while.

 

Though she hadn’t gone through the background check in detail.

 

Jiang Mi continued, “After my biological mom passed away, Old Jiang adopted me. That was around the first time we met, officially.”

 

Yan Wei: “Is that so?”

 

Quite a coincidence. Yan Xiaotan had also passed away around that time.

 

Her fingertips still rested on the cold glass, unmoving. Silence thickened in the air.

 

Jiang Mi’s voice was soft, like telling someone else’s story. “Not long after that, Jiang Hu came to live with us.” She paused, watching Yan Wei’s movements, her own fingers now also resting on the cold cup. “We used to fight a lot. She even hit me.”

 

Yan Wei’s elegant brows twitched ever so slightly.

 

“She used to pull my hair and kick me,” Jiang Mi added, a childlike complaint in her tone.

 

She turned slightly, light falling into her eyes like a soft glow. “Jiejie, if she had even a little bit of your gentleness, maybe I’d be willing to call her sister.”

 

Half explanation, half trying to sweet-talk her.

 

But the irritation in Yan Wei’s chest didn’t fade. Instead, something silent and dark seemed to coil around her. She looked at Jiang Mi—there were always people occupying the space around this person.

 

Jiang Youshu, Jiang Hu, Zhao Jia, Apple, even Shen Ruoxi… One after another, all taking important parts of her life.

 

And herself? She was just another one of those “important people.”

 

She didn’t like that.

 

She wanted Jiang Mi to belong only to her.

 

A thought quietly took root: If only all those people disappeared. What would Jiang Mi be like, if she belonged to her alone?

 

Yan Wei lowered her eyes, her long lashes hiding the storm in her gaze.

 

She took a sip of lemon water, but her tongue tasted only flavorless cold.

 

“Jiejie,” Jiang Mi suddenly called her.

 

When Yan Wei looked up again, her eyes had returned to their usual calm, a tranquil pool. She responded faintly, “Mm?”

 

Jiang Mi looked at her, a searching light in her gaze. “When we go back… will you go back to how you were before?”

 

“Before?” Yan Wei’s tone was steady. “What was I like before?”

 

“You ignored me,” Jiang Mi softly said.

 

Yan Wei was thinking, but she couldn’t recall how she used to be. What she did remember were the times she had seen Jiang Mi—vivid and sharp in her memory: their first touch in the apartment, the scent of her alpha pheromones, Jiang Mi’s cautious approach, bringing her breakfast, the care she showed, bringing her clothes in the cold, sharing umbrellas in the rain… All those tangible and intangible gestures—they were all etched in her mind.

 

It was strange.

 

The silence grew thick between them.

 

Jiang Mi put down her glass with a soft “clink.” She turned to look at Yan Wei, a hint of sweetness and gentle complaint in her tone. “It’s true. One day we were talking just fine…”

 

She deliberately dragged out her tone, like honey on a hook: “And the next day, you ignored me.”

 

She was trying to act cute—because she knew Yan Wei liked it when she did.

 

Yan Wei’s nerves twitched slightly. Her eyes dropped, landing on Jiang Mi’s lips, just moistened by the water.

 

Plump and red, shimmering with a glossy sheen, like glazed porcelain—begging to be touched.

 

Her tongue brushed lightly against her teeth. She said, “Come here.”

 

They were in a private dining room, after all.

 

Jiang Mi got up, the sound of the wooden chair scraping against the floor crisp and brief. She sat down beside Yan Wei, close enough that the warmth of her body seeped through the thin fabric between them.

 

One of her hands reached over, fingers playing with Yan Wei’s cool fingertips, lightly kneading them with a playful boldness.

 

She wasn’t afraid of Yan Wei anymore.

 

Yan Wei lowered her eyes. Her hand let Jiang Mi toy with it for a few seconds before she gently turned her fingers and gripped Jiang Mi’s finger.

 

Back and forth they went.

 

Neither said a word.

 

They didn’t rush into a post-meal kiss. Jiang Mi just leaned in and brushed her lips gently against Yan Wei’s cheek.

 

But soon, Yan Wei found that playing with fingers was no longer enough. She unbuttoned Jiang Mi’s clothes a few times, and eventually, with her head resting on Jiang Mi’s shoulder, whispered:

 

“Jiejie is wet.”

 

Blushing, Jiang Mi could only nuzzle her cheek against Yan Wei’s in response.

 

…

 

The afternoon passed too quickly.

 

To squeeze in more time together, they both rescheduled their return flights to Huai City—Jiang Mi’s at 6 p.m., Yan Wei’s at 8 p.m. That left them with just over three hours in Jin City.

 

Jiang Mi led Yan Wei into a quiet glassware shop tucked in a corner street. There were few students at that hour, and the summer heat had emptied the streets.

 

Inside was an elderly woman tending the shop.

 

When they stepped in wearing masks, she greeted them warmly, “Take your time. Let me know if you need anything.”

 

The shop gleamed with light reflecting through glass. Jiang Mi’s eyes were instantly drawn to a pure white snow fox on the display shelf.

 

Its form sleek, eyes slightly narrowed—cold and proud.

 

Jiang Mi turned to Yan Wei, “This one looks like you.”

 

Yan Wei followed her gaze, but her eyes skipped over the fox and landed on a delicate, pink bunny beside it.

 

Its fur soft, eyes dark as stars, ears dainty as if they were trembling.

 

She picked it up gently, her thumb caressing its smooth cheek.

 

Jiang Mi smiled, “That one’s cute too. Do you want it? I’ll buy it for you.”

 

Yan Wei’s eyes lit up slightly, her voice relaxed and pleased, “Sure.”

 

A few minutes later—

 

Jiang Mi carried a small paper bag, walking beside Yan Wei. The afternoon sun scorched the air, the streets wrapped in a shimmering heat.

 

She opened an umbrella and tilted it toward Yan Wei’s head as they hurried toward their car parked by the road.

 

“This time you won’t lose it again, right?” Jiang Mi asked, her hair damp with sweat, sticking to her sun-pinked cheeks.

 

Yan Wei looked at her, as if she didn’t remember what she meant.

 

Jiang Mi reminded her, “The little ornament I gave you.”

 

Yan Wei didn’t answer right away. “How did you know I lost it?”

 

Jiang Mi explained she’d seen a staff member pick it up after a shoot one day.

 

“I was really upset that day,” she said, a hint of teasing in her tone. “I thought maybe you were just toying with me… But later, when Bai Qiu left the set, I figured maybe you didn’t lose it on purpose. Then I wasn’t upset anymore.”

 

Only then did Yan Wei realize—no wonder Jiang Mi had suddenly become distant at that time.

 

“Mm.”

 

She paused and added, “I didn’t lose it on purpose.”

 

“I know.”

 

They reached the car.

 

“I’ll drive,” Jiang Mi said, naturally taking Yan Wei’s hand and guiding her to the passenger seat.

 

She opened the door, let Yan Wei settle in, then gently closed it and walked to the driver’s side.

 

The interior had been baked by the midday sun and felt like a steamer.

 

The heat pressed down heavily, the leather seats almost scalding.

 

Sweat had gathered on Yan Wei’s elegant nose bridge.

 

Inside the car, isolated from the noise and heat, Yan Wei looked sideways at Jiang Mi—her face still tinged pink from the sun, hair tousled, a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

 

Sometimes Jiang Mi treated her so well, she’d have the illusion that—

 

They might really be together for a long, long time.

 

Jiang Mi pulled out a wet wipe and handed it to Yan Wei, using one herself to dab her sweaty forehead.

 

Once the engine started, the air conditioning slowly kicked in, though the heat lingered.

 

She asked the question lingering in her heart: “So… Jiejie, was Bai Qiu really let go just because she lost the ornament I gave you?”

 

“No.”

 

Yan Wei answered without hesitation.

 

She didn’t use the wet wipe on herself—instead, she reached out and gently wiped the sweat from Jiang Mi’s flushed cheek, the cool touch meeting her warm skin.

 

She said nothing more, but the gesture was possessive.

 

She didn’t tell Jiang Mi that it wasn’t just about the ornament.

 

That was merely the final straw.

 

What truly made her lose patience was…

 

Jiang Mi’s warmth toward Bai Qiu.

 

She simply didn’t want to hear Jiang Mi call her “Qiuqiu” again. That was all.